


and now, dearest, we return

by spacenarwhal



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacenarwhal/pseuds/spacenarwhal
Summary: Jyn’s mouth flinches in and out of a frown, her brow furrows just a little under her messy fringe. Unlined, her eyes seem impossibly wide, round, and Cassian is overwhelmed by the urge to rise and stroke his thumb against her cheek, tinged pink beneath the lingering sunburn she brought back with her from her last journey off world.





	and now, dearest, we return

**Author's Note:**

> Written for rebelcaptain week, day 3, prompt: tender

“It’s long.” Jyn says quietly, an uncharacteristic note of doubt in her voice. The hand braced against Cassian’s shoulder tightens briefly, relaxes again in a way that telegraphs more apprehension than calm. 

Cassian nods, turns to look over his shoulder so he can look Jyn in the eye. Her face gives nothing away, smooth and devoid of the fidgety energy Cassian can feel in her touch. Her grey eyes are serious, her mouth stern. She looks better prepared to face off against an opponent than to take on the task at hand. “I would have asked Chirrut but I decided to wait for you.” He jokes, offering her a smile. 

Jyn’s mouth flinches in and out of a frown, her brow furrows just a little under her messy fringe. Unlined, her eyes seem impossibly wide, round and Cassian is overwhelmed by the urge to rise and stroke his thumb against her cheek, tinged pink beneath the lingering sunburn she brought back with her from her last journey off world. 

They’ve been apart for too long. 

Jyn hums under her breath, nudges him in the shoulder until he turns back around, forward facing. She rakes her fingers through his hair, skims the shell of his ear lightly. Her short blunt nails trail down the nape of his neck. Cassian does his best not to shiver. 

“It’s good long.” Jyn says thoughtfully, collecting his hair between both her palms. She twists it around her fist carefully, and Cassian’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest when she ducks and presses a single soft kiss against the top of his spine. “It suits you.” She lets it unwind in pieces that whisper back into place against his neck. 

“Thank you.” Cassian answers, heat rising in his face, mouth going lax with fondness and surprise both. He’s been called handsome before, but there’s no artifice to Jyn’s compliments, no intention beyond voicing her opinion, carefully given for all its blunt edges. 

Jyn picks up a piece of hair and Cassian hears the first clean snip of scissors, feels the steady press of Jyn’s fingers against the crown of his head, tipping his head slightly forward. Jyn combs her fingers through his hair again and Cassian watches his own hair collect on the cement floor. She works in near silence, focused on her work, but every now and then Cassian catches the wisps of a song, hummed under her breath. 

Cassian closes his eyes, wraps himself in the quiet, her touch, the rhythm of the scissors in her hand. He imagines shedding the last few months of distance as easily as he does the hair on his head. He wishes it were so easy. 

But there isn’t time now to waste on their time apart, not when they are together. Not when Jyn is brushing hair off his shoulders. Cassian stands, shakes loose the itching strands of hair caught in his collar. 

Jyn catches him off guard again, grabs his face in her hands and harkens him closer, so that Cassian has to curve his spine forward in order to look Jyn in the eye.

“There’s something you should know,” Jyn whispers, grin teasing at the corners of her mouth, and when she kisses him this time Cassian takes advantage of the ability to wrap his hands around her waist, pull her closer. She pulls away, flushed under her sunburn, eyes bright, “You look a little like you lost a fight with a rancor.” 

Cassian laughs, feels an impossible burst of happiness rise up from deep in his belly.

It is good to be home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Pablo Neruda's _Love, we're going home now_


End file.
